


Precious One

by Darke_Eco_Freak



Category: Devilman: Crybaby
Genre: AU: Satan Emerges Earlier and Things Are Better, Blood Kink, Come Eating, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Riding, intersex Satan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 00:10:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13581897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darke_Eco_Freak/pseuds/Darke_Eco_Freak
Summary: Power, Control, Akira. Satan has wanted all three as long as they've existed. Power to face God and take the throne of Heaven. Control over the destiny laid out and the destiny they'd prefer. Akira because nothing else mattered in this world but Akira. Satan wants all three but has to make do with one, for now.





	Precious One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gings/gifts).



> Commissioned by my friend Gings to have these two fuck <3

In all of their existence, Satan has lusted after but three things: Power, Control, and Akira Fudo. In all of their existence, Satan has only had but one of their three desires and they can never say whether the one suffices for the two they’ve yet to attain. They don’t know whether the one ever can because the missing two are like an open wound.

A gaping sore bleeding molten gold with every beat of their angelic heart, one that pains them and gnaws at them in remembrance. Remembrance of the position they lost…no- _forfeited_ in their vain attempt at Power and Prestige and Peace. Remembrance of the paradise they’d lost in the War against a force they could never beat, or rather, could not beat _yet_.

They refused to lose hope and lie down and die, besides they had One of their precious things and would have to be content.

“For now,” they murmur quietly, running their fingers through soft hair, smiling sweetly at the precious one resting in their lap.

They trace the lines of Akira’s face, lax in sleep and peaceful in a way Satan doesn’t often see. They adore this half human boy more than they ever thought they could. After all, humans disgusted them with their complexity but Akira was…above that. Akira cried for those who could not and killed for those who would not, Akira was tender hearted but resolute and Satan loved him.

Akira Fudo is their precious one, best loved of Satan’s flock. They would rip the stars from the sky if Akira asked and burn the world to ash if Akira wanted. So long as Akira stayed by their side, Satan would do anything, fight anyone. With Akira at their side Satan knew they could win against the cold might of God.

For now though, they relish in this simple existence. How long since the war that sent them dormant? Since the demons were destroyed and left suffer in an incorporeal hell? They can try to count back the billions of years, the trillions, since they first found this outpost planet but what would be the point? When they can barely remember their time spent as a greater Being’s attack dog, what would be the point of it?

Instead, they focus on this here, this now. They card their fingers through their precious one’s dark hair and curl their wings closer around their body, hiding Akira from the unending watch of God. Strange to think how very human Akira still is, even in the body Satan gifted him the second they came back into their own. Amon had been eager to do their bidding and possess their human though neither of them could guess Satan’s precious one would be stronger than the demon.

Now Amon exists only in body, mind lying dormant in Akira’s subconscious, and Satan prefers that. They would have done anything to keep Akira through the long years of Heavenly Battle and giving him over to a demon had been dangerous but it had all worked out.

Now Ryo’s cry baby is a Devilman and Satan’s precious Akira is strong enough to live.

* * *

 

There’s something painfully arousing about their Devilman covered in golden blood, demon’s blood, angel’s blood, Satan’s blood. It was never enough to have Akira loyal to them and them alone, no, Satan needed more than that and with this they got it.

“R-Ryo,” Akira pants, claws carving into their hips, cutting them and bleeding them and Satan smiles. They don’t mind being called by that name, the human one, they don’t mind a single thing Akira does or could do.

Not when Amon’s desires overpower Akira’s soft human heart and pins them against the wall, breathing hot and heavy against their throat. They don’t mind when Akira tears off the wispy white cloth they’ve taken to wearing or when he pins their wrists with one hand. No, how could they mind their precious one forcing his tongue into their mouth? Hardly forcing when Satan welcomes him, coaxes him with a hand under his chin and another wrapped around his throat.

Akira whines into their mouth, breathing fire down into their lungs and searing them from the inside out and Satan shivers with it. They can taste hellfire on Akira’s breath and their own blood on his tongue, they shiver when Akira sucks on their tongue, fangs scraping along the length of it. They gasp when claws dig deeper into their hips and moan when their wings are pushed harder against the wall, pinioned there and held spread.

Akira gives over to Amon’s desires so freely, so willingly, it’s entirely at odds with how he was before but Satan likes this. They like that their precious one isn’t afraid to press a leg between their thighs and rub as hard, nearly chafing. And they like that Akira is the only one who would dare treat them like this, as though they aren’t something once heavenly and divine, it’s refreshing.

They also like that Akira shifts into his demon flesh only for the height because they like the feel of soft, supple skin under their hands. And the bob of his throat under their hand and the gasps they can taste when they squeeze ever so slightly. They enjoy this carnal pleasure, primal really, and they strip away Akira’s clothes with a sweep of their wings.

“Wouldn’t you like to fuck me, Akira?” they ask, playful, as Akira pulls away to pant for air and what a delicious blush staining his dark cheeks. Satan can’t help themself as they lean in and nuzzle against it, pressing their cheek to Akira’s and breathing in deep.

They can’t help the stuttering moan that falls from their lips as they smell their own blood mixed into the sulphur of Akira’s devil skin. Their scents mixing together, Akira’s thigh between their own, giving them something to grind their cock against, it’s almost too much. They’ve never been one to fall for or delight in pleasures of the flesh so to speak, never found anyone worth their time before Akira.

Ohh Akira does terrible things to them.

“What?” Akira mumbles, confused and dazed from the kiss but Satan isn’t. They grab their precious one by the shoulders and push away from the wall, they flap their wings once to make sure they don’t knock the wind from the Devilman’s lungs and land straddling his hips. Satan knows what Akira can handle, they know he isn’t some fragile human anymore but that doesn’t stop them from treating him like spun glass.

They cradle his head and grind down gently, barely enough to satisfy themself but enough to entice Akira. Enough to get his cock jumping at attention and my, isn’t it responsive? Amon’s lust flows in Akira’s veins but the need burning behind brown eyes is all Akira’s and all for Satan. A lesser being would burn under that stare, they would wither away to nothing but Satan embraces it. They revel in it because no one else can have it, no other being will ever have Akira, Humanity’s Champion, but him.

No one else will ever skim their fingers along the length of Akira’s cock, and they will never slide their own against his. They won’t cup his face with a cool palm and kiss him slow and deep the way Satan does. They won’t taste the sulphur behind Akira’s teeth, and they won’t suck on a tongue that burns, one that brands.

“Fuck me, wouldn’t you like to?” Satan repeats, rolling their hips and sliding up just enough for their pussy to slide along Akira’s cock. And this is another part of thier real body they enjoy more than they ever had a chance to before, sex had never interested them before Akira. Angels weren’t sexual beings, God had never made them to be anything but pure and sex belonged to the base animals.

So fucking Akira is killing two birds with one stone, it satisfies them and it slights God which is all Satan ever wants to do. Though, for once, it’s an afterthought because everything in them is focused on Akira. What Akira wants, another touch, another kiss, more prompting?

Yes that must be it, Akira is still so shy, still so unsure of his own wants and needs. Satan doesn’t mind, it’s another untouched, pure part of their Devilman, more proof of how much better Akira is than therest of Humanity. So they brush back Akira’s hair and press their cool lips to they curve of Akira’s ear, smiling as the skin under their lips burns hotter.

“Let me ride you Akira,” they whisper, dragging their dripping pussy along Akira’s cock, teasing him. Satan could cum from this alone, Akira could as well, with his cock trapped in cool, slickness, how could he not? He’s nothing but a poor base beast given over to his animal impulses, the need to fight and feed and fuck and Satan loves being dragged down in the muck of it.

They love resting their weight on his hips, wings flared for balance as they tease Akira with their messy cunt. They love feeling the slick slide of their own blood down their throat, down their thighs even as the muscles knit together and flesh smooths perfect. They love the slow burn in their gut as Akira pants hot and heavy in their ear, chest raising with every ragged breath and pressing against their breasts.

“Let me _feel_ you,” they beg, pulling their idle hand from between their bodies and wrapping it around Akira’s throat instead. They want to feel their Devilman’s pulse at every point they possibly can, his cock, his chest, his throat, Satan wants it all, greedy as always.

“Yes,” Akira finally whines as he roll his hips and Satan gasps at the motion. The head of Akira’s cock slips into their and their own smears precum on both their stomachs from where it’s trapped between their bodies. Their wings tremble, flared out and up like some animal desperate to seem better than it is and they hope God has a nice view.

They want God to have the best view as His once-best reaches down to hold a once-human’s cock steady so they can slide it into their pussy. They want God to see every inch of Akira disappearing into the perfect pink of Satan’s cunt, see the way they clench around Akira and the full body shudder as they finally take it all. They want God to see the tremble in their thighs as they sit up and the way their cock leaks while standing proudly and the way their nipples harden.

They want God to see Akira’s hands on them, one reaching for their breast and the other for their cock, to give them as much pleasure as possible. They hope God doesn’t look away otherwise He might miss the best part but then Akira’s bucks up and Satan completely forgets God.

They're lost in the sweet stretch of their cunt and the drag of Akira’s cock. They forget everything but the wet _squelch_ as they ride their precious one for all he’s worth and he’s worth more than this entire galaxy.

Satan digs their fingers into Akira’s throat, bruises the tender flesh, and bares their teeth in a grin when the Devilman moans. They impale themself on Akira’s cock, keeping a steadier pace than any mortal thing could, and laughs from the pleasure of it. Sin of the flesh, sin of the soul, oh it’s better than they could’ve guessed and all they want now and they could have it.

They can have it as long as Akira gives it to them, as long as Akira keeps bucking into them, keeps whining and moaning for them. Satan leans over, hissing as they shift and pleasure rips along their spine, but they don’t stop. They bend themself over so they can catch those sweet lips in a kiss, so they can taste every stuttered moan and broken gasp falling from their precious one’s lips.

They lick up the blood from bitten lips and loosen their grip around a bruised throat but they don't slow down. No, they fuck themself on Akira until they can feel their orgasm building, burning, they fuck themself until they hear a tell-tale whimper. And how wonderful that they can tell the difference between one noise of pleasure and another, how wonderful to have their dear human devil.

“Do you want to cum Akira?” they purr, trailing their kisses to his dear Akira’s jaw.

“Do you want to cum in me Akira?” they whisper, biting at the skin until it breaks under their teeth.

“Do you want to see it leaking out of my pussy?” they ask, lapping at the warm blood and shuddering as Akira’s hand, so long forgotten, strokes along their cock.

And well, they're not ashamed to cum from a single clumsy touch. Their gasping moan doesn’t embarrass them and the full body shiver that sends their wings trembling doesn’t colour their cheeks. Satan never did human embarrassment, even when they were pretending to be one they understood the how’s and the why’s.

So now, when they cum from a touch, they don't care. They ride their orgasm for everything it’s worth and rolls their hips the way they knows Akira can never resist. His breath catches in his throat and his heart skips more beats than it should but they keep their pace unrelenting, they don’t lose their rhythm though they shudder and shake from so much, too much.

“Ryo,” Akira pants into their hair, breath brushing the fall of gold, burning their neck, but he cums. He cums hard, as always, and he cums so much, as always, and Satan never slows, as always.

* * *

 

And they’re at war, even if it doesn’t always seem it, they are fighting a Heavenly War against the cold, unfeeling might of God. In their quiet moments, in their bloodlust, they are fighting or their very existence. The Demons in their impurity, the Devilmen in their unnatural existence, even the humans wooed by the spectacle of Satan, God’s best and brightest angel.

Of course, some foolish humans choose to wage war against the demons, following in the path of their God and seeing mere demonic existence as mortal sin. Those are the ones Akira cannot fight, the ones he refuses to kill though he slaughters dissenting demons by the hundred. Satan doesn’t understand it but they accept it, Akira’s heart is still human after all and human hearts can break to pieces if pushed.

They already ask so much of Akira; to accept them, to trust in them, to never leave them please Akira I don’t know what I’d do without you by my side, so Satan decides to handle this themself. They hunt down the pack of humans holed up in their caves as though that will save them from Satan's wrath. They bring the mountain down on the humans' heads, crushes them under tons of rock and spends a few hours of leisure picking through the rubble for survivors.

They clear paths with lazy flaps of their wings, kicks away boulders far larger than them and yawns as the beautiful moons rise together. Three moons orbit this lovely planet they've chosen as their home and each is as beautiful as the other. Satan preens under their light and laughs musical and sweet, shattering the dour silence of the night. There are no living things but them, not for miles and miles around and it reminds them of the vast emptiness of space, flying past blackholes and through hypernovas.

They remember breathing in stardust and crushing fresh born nebulae under their hands, killing the babes in their creche. They like earth, the water is cool like their own skin, the sun is warm like the hatred simmering in their soul and the moons? Well there are three of them, one for each of their desires, how fitting.

“Ryo! Ryo!”

And they turn to the voice calling them from the dark, the lone voice, the hand reaching for them offering salvation.

“Akira,” they murmur with a smile.

Of course Akira would come looking for them, they've been gone quite a while after all and Akira worries so easily. He worries for his human girl but he worries for Satan too and the mourning star gleams under the attention. Having someone worry about them is different and if anyone else tried it, they would snap their necks as simple as breathing but this is Akira after all, only Akira gets their care and affection.

“Jenny said you were done hours ago,” Akira whines as he nears, wings flapping soundlessly, tail lashing in a way they know is unconscious. So much of what Akira is now relies on instinct, instincts that tell him how to fight, ones that tell him how to fuck. Satan likes instincts better than emotion.

“I was being thorough,” they explain as Akira drops in front of them, tears welling in his eyes though he can’t see any of the mangled bodies, Satan made sure of it. They knew Akira would come looking for them, he always did, so they cleaned up after themself. There aren’t any bodies to find, no blood to scent, no bones to find; Satan had been thorough and left nothing behind.

Now they throw their arms wide and smiles as Akira steps into their embrace, as easy as breathing. Amon’s body suits their precious one, the furred legs are powerful; they like to rest their hands on those thighs while they suck Akira’s cock and feel the muscles moving under soft fur. The bat-like wings are unfaltering and Satan likes to claw at them when Akira fucks them, tearing holes in the delicate membranes and watching it knit back together.

Amon was the right choice for this, a Champion who could set volcanoes ablaze and melt the world, he was a king amongst devils and made Akira a God amongst men. A God that Satan would gladly worship, the only one they would.

“Jenny said to bring you back for the war meeting,” Akira mumbles against Satan’s shoulder but makes no move to pull away. There’s nothing but them for miles around, bathed in the silver light of three moons and Satan smiles.

“Did she how long you could take?” they ask as they fall backwards, taking Akira with them, and they land in the rubble. The stones under their wings could be soft heather and the baleful howl of the wind could be a lover’s sigh for all they cared.

They had Akira here, far far away from the rest of the world and catching the silver light like something ethereal, they weren’t going to pass up this chance. No, no, no, not when they could just as easily roll them both over and get Akira under them, under them always. Not when they could pet the soft fur at Akira’s hips and guide clawed legs to hook around their slim waist.

Compared to Akira they were waif thin, slim and fragile, they looked like a breeze could snap them but that was just as God had always intended. Their body was reflective of the Creator’s own tastes and my didn’t that tell all?

“Did she I couldn’t fuck you before we went back?” they tease, shaking their feathers out and grinning at their caught Devilman. They wonder what it would be like to fight against Akira, how much would they destroy, how much would be left after the dust cleared?

“Unless you don’t want that?” they suggest, idly running a hand along their own body, teasing the insides of their thighs and brushing their cock. They don’t care about masturbation much, the drive is never there when their own cool hands drag over their skin but having Akira’s eyes on them while they do this is entirely different.

They aren't doing this for themself, they're not doing this because they find personal pleasure in it, oh no, their fingers curl around their cock because of Akira. Akira’s eyes locked on their cock, Akira’s throat bobbing as he swallows, Akira’s own cock sliding from the sheath it stays hidden away in. The fingers around their cock rea for Akira, the thumb swiping over the head and the full body moan is for him.

The hand that skims along their body, cupping one breast is for Akira, the fingers plucking at a nipple is for him. The soft gasps and wet moans are all his, and when Satan finally slides those fingers into their own mouth, sucking on them and groaning around them, it’s for no one but Akira. They smile with their eyes as Akira’s mouth falls open and strokes their cock once, making sure the back of their knuckles brush Akira’s own weeping dick as they go.

Oh it’s so easy to work up this body of his, a few words in the right tone of voice, a few filthy words whispered or maybe a few choice touches, teasing and lingering in all the right places. Satan knows just how to play their precious one, how to make his back arch with nothing but a touch, to have him begging with nothing but a smile.

“Don’t you?” they gasp, moaning as they slide their fingers from their mouth to speak. They don’t need to move their mouth to speak but it keeps Akira’s attention so it’s their little secret. Anything to keep Akira’s sex hazed eyes on them, anything to have Akira’s hands grabbing at their thighs, at their wings.

“Answer me Akira,” they breathe, whisper quiet, almost silent but they know Akira hears them. They know when the fingers carding through their feathers grip tight, painfully tight, and the air leaves their lungs in a whine. Oh pain is something they know, they know it intimately and so much better than pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes, _Ryo_.”

And getting their way is nearly as sweet as the hands lifting them, shifting them until they're on their knees above Akira. Almost as sweet as the hands pulling at their wrists, pulling them away from their mouth and their cock, leading one to Akira’s hip and the other to Akira’s ass instead. Almost as sweet as the hand coaxing their fingers against the ass presented to them, as though a demon’s body would need what a human’s does.

Oh but Satan can never deny their precious one anything and they do so love this. Love the punched out, weak little gasps Akira makes when they slide a single finger into his tight ass. And they adore the way Akira already tries to push back against them, begging for more though he’s only just had a taste but Satan obliges. They slip two, three fingers into Akira’s ass and takes their time spreading them and sliding them in and out, careful not to brush their lover’s prostate.

All while Akira fists his cock, grinding down on Satan’s fingers and fucking up into his own fist, and it’s a beautiful sight. Blue skin doesn’t bush as easily as soft brown but they can feel the heat of it, fever hot in a pleasant way. And they want more of it so they lean down, hair falling over their shoulders and pooling on Akira’s chest as they nuzzle the taunt line of their lover’s throat.

It’s nice, being under the light of three moons with their fingers buried in their precious one. It’s nice being able to press their cheek to Akira’s pulse and feel it fluttering against their skin, nice to hear it and feel it too. It’s nice to have their precious one writhing under them, one hand clutching at their feathers with Satan’s ‘name’ spilling from his lips.

“Do you want me to fuck you boneless, Akira?” Satan murmurs against a taunt throat, smiling as their lover squeezes their fingers hard. Hard enough to break, hard enough to have the bones grinding together.

“I could make you scream my name for the rabbits on the moons to hear,” they tease, laughing quietly before biting his lip on a moan.

“Make you cum hard enough to set off a volcano, an eruption worth your orgasm, could you imagine?” they purr, twisting their fingers as they speak until they brush Akira’s prostate. Then, quick as sin, they pull their fingers free of their lover and bats Akira’s hand out of the way, circling Akira’s cock and squeezing tight.

“Wha-Ryo? Please, please anything you- ** _please_**.”

Anything? Oh the things they could do with permission like that. The terrible, beautiful things but no, they’ll be nice for once. They’ll do what Akira wants and they’ll still enjoy every second of because this is Akira, the one clawing at his wings and growling low in his throat because Satan didn’t let him cum.

“Shh, I’ll give you what you want, don’t I always, Akira?” they ask, pressing a teasing kiss to their lover’s wild pulse. Akira really didn’t need any stretching but it was what he wanted and now he wants Satan’s cock so they oblige, as always. They keep the grip on Akira’s as they slowly line up with the warmth of Akira’s ass and they’d like to tease just a bit more but they don’t have the patience for that.

They slide right into Akira’s ass, burying themself in one smooth move and smirking when Akira snarls in pleasure. They enjoy the soft gasps and keening whines but oh, oh fuck do they love the animalistic desire too. It’s more than the claws plucking their feathers and the fangs barred at them, ready to rip out their throat, it’s…it’s simply more and simply simpler.

Akira doesn’t try to pull away either, no, no, no, he backs against Satan, enticing them to move somehow, move _now_. And there’s no more please, no more begging, Akira is Amon is Demon and Satan still obliges, they still adjust their grip on Akira’s cock, their grip on his shoulder and set up a pace that would break a lesser being in half.

They fuck into Akira hard, they don’t care about soft and gentle because Akira doesn’t want it. They don’t avoid his prostate either, they brush it with every bone breaking thrust and dig their nails into the delicate skin of Akira’s cock, raising welts with every brutal stroke. The scent of blood is high in the air, golden and freezing at the back of their throat and they know it’s their own but they don’t feel the pain.

No, there’s no pain or if there is, it’s lost in the euphoria. Lost in the haze of fucking their lover, their sweet, damned Akira, and there’s really nothing better. Not ruling this world with all the grace befitting them, not mounting attacks against the cruel God that would destroy them, not even wiping the field of all their opposition.

Akira was better than all that, _is_ better. As he growls, as he snarls and roars, as he claws as Satan’s back, desperate to cum but can’t yet. Not while their fingers stay tight around his cock, holding back his orgasm and holding him at the edge for who could tell how long?

Not that Satan is much better, hair falling past their shoulders, mouth slack with moans and laughter, face flushed golden from the blood rushing strong and fast in their veins. They’re not much better on the edge like this, ready and willing to tumble over whenever they please but not yet. Just a bit more.

A little more of the slick slapping as they fuck their lover, a bit more of the racing in their chest and burn of their skin. They want more, they want this always, they want this forever and they’d do whatever they had to in order to get it. If killing God was the way to do it then yes, they were already going to kill God but here was another reason to do it because, because good things never lasted.

No one could hold eternity in a grain of sand or see infinity in a drop of water. No one but God could make this eternal so until then, until they could take the crown of Heaven…

“Cum for me,” they snarl, relaxing the grip on Akira’s cock in favour of stroking hard and fast, matching the thrust of their hips. Once, twice, thumb the head and Akira is cumming, cumming hard and hot and sweet.

Cum splattering between them, making a mess of both their stomachs but Satan laughed, just laughed, high and cold and full of all the wild humour no human could ever have. They laugh as they tumble into their own orgasm, hand never faltering, hips never stuttering. Akira’s cock twitches in their hand, still hard, and Satan thinks about it for a bit before bringing their cum covered hand to their mouth.

Akira’s eyes burn with lust as they lick his cum off their fingers, lapping at the strings of it between their fingers. They make sure he has a nice view as they suckle each finger, pulling it from their mouth with a vulgar pop and a smirk. Then they scoop up more from the cooling mess on Akira’s stomach and does it all over again, moaning at the salty taste and the way Akira bears down on their cock as they do.

They could do this all night and oh they think they will, if Akira is willing of course.

“Lord Satan, please clean up soon,” Jenny sighs, thoughts reaching them from wherever she is, “the meeting is in an hour.”

“Yes Jenny, thank you,” they answer knowing full well they won’t make the meeting, as does Jenny, and keeps fucking their lover.  

“Your mother should have taught you the value of punctuality,” she tsks, consciousness slowly fading away.

“She was too busy fucking men in the kitchen while I earned my doctorate,” they tease, smiling serenely as Jenny flips them off psychically.


End file.
